You and Me
by rachelcolleen1000
Summary: Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark both lost their parents - Katniss in a tragic car accident and Peeta in a fire. They meet in Panem Orphanage and are strangely drawn to each other. When Katniss's sister Prim is adopted, she turns to Peeta for comfort. Can Peeta show her that it's worth loving someone, even if you lose them in the end? AU, OOC, Modern Day


**Please tell me what you think of this new story! :)**

I remember the first time I saw her.

We were twelve years old. Her parents had just died in a massive car accident. Mine had been gone for years after a fire burned down our bakery, killing both of my brothers, as well. I was one of eight kids living in the Panem Orphanage at that time. You know about the Panem Orphanage – once you're in, you can't get out. Nobody adopts from the Panem Orphanage because the kids who live here come from the projects. Nobody wants a kid from the projects.

Her and her little sister, four years our junior, shared the room right next to mine. I shared with a boy one year older than me, Thresh. He was _big_, with dark skin and dark eyes. He'd been there since before I'd come and I'd never asked what happened to his parents. It was an unspoken agreement between us orphans – we didn't want to talk about our pasts, and nobody asked you about them.

I remember the look on her face just a few hours ago, when a young couple came in and adopted her little sister. Her ten year old little sister was the first person to be adopted from Panem Orphanage in sixty years.

I remember the look on her face when her sister's new parents walked out the door, pulling her along with them. I'd never seen the tough, beautiful woman I'd come to know look so broken.

The girl that I'd fallen in love with, Katniss Everdeen, hadn't come out of her room since Prim had left. The nine other occupants of Panem Orphanage – make that eight, now – sat on the steps, staring at the door to her bedroom.

"Someone's got to go in there," Clove says.

"No shit, Sherlock," Cato says. "Foxface, you're pretty smart. Think of a way to cheer her up." Foxface's real name was Macy, but we all called her Foxface because of her sly wit, red hair, and fox-shaped face.

"Our best bet is having Peeta go in there," Foxface says.

"What?" I ask incredulously.

Foxface shrugs. "She's been here for two years and we barely know a thing about her. You're the only one who's remotely close to her."

"Maybe we should give her time," Marvel suggests. Glimmer smacks his arm, hard.

"Please," Glimmer says. "If there's one good thing about being in this hellhole, it's that we've got nine – eight, now – other people to look out for us, always. Now someone's going in there. I vote Peeta."

"Agreed," everyone calls. I groan and stand up. Honestly, I would love to go in and talk to her. But I know that she's going to hate the first person she talks to. And I don't want her to hate me. I want her to love me. I want her to love me back.

I look back at the group on the stairs before knocking on the door. "Hey, Katniss?" I call softly. "It's Peeta. Can I come in?"

I don't get a response, so I shrug and open the door. The lights are off and the bed is empty, but the window's open. I'm beginning to panic when I see Katniss's head pop into the open window. Her eyes are red and swollen and she no longer looks much older than fourteen years old. She looks younger.

"Oh, it's you," she says, wiping her eyes. "I thought you were Haymitch."

"Haymitch is drunk," I say. "Like always."

"I guess there are some things you can always count on," she says softly. I smile sadly, close the door, and walk towards her. She's sitting on the fire escape, overlooking the fantastic view of an alleyway.

"Want some company?" I ask.

She shakes her head. "I want to be alone."

"That's not allowed," I say. "The one good thing about this place is that there's always someone to comfort you. Today, I'm comforting you."

She looks at me for a long moment before scooting over on the fire escape. I climb out the window and sit beside her. We sit for a long time. I don't say anything and she doesn't, either. Eventually, she says, "Why did it have to be her?"

I turn to look at her. "I don't know, Katniss. I don't know."

"Just my luck, right?" she sighs. "I lost both my parents and now I've lost the last thing to remind me of home."

"I'm sorry," I say. "I know how you feel."

"You don't know how I feel," she bites, her voice venomous. "You'll never understand. You've never lost your sibling."

I swallow hard, turning away from her. "I have, actually," I say softly. "Two."

She turns to look at me. "What?"

"The same fire that got my parents got my two older brothers," I say softly. "I was at a friend's house. I was five years old."

"Peeta, I'm so sorry, I didn't –"

"You didn't know, I know," I say. "I . . . I haven't told anyone here that. I just tell them I was an only child."

Katniss nods. "Peeta? Does the pain . . . go away?"

I shrug. "Some days are better than others, some days you don't want to get out of bed," I say. "Just be glad your sister is still alive. I don't get to be glad about that."

She turns to me. "Thanks, Peeta."

I look her in the eye and just as I'm about to look away, I remember one of the things my father always said. _It only takes ten seconds of courage, Peet. Ten seconds of courage and you'll never regret it_.

So I extend my arm and drape it around Katniss's shoulders. She tenses at my touch but leans into me. I estimate that my ten seconds are almost up, so I clumsily kiss the top of her head.

"You're welcome, Katniss."

Katniss and I sit like that for the rest of the night. I join her the next night, and the night after that. I join her every night, my arm around her shoulder and her head leaning against me. One night, a couple months after Prim's departure, I kiss her lips goodnight. It was awkward and exciting and scary and beautiful. I kiss her goodnight every night for another few months. And finally, six months after Prim's departure, I go for broke and ask her to be my girlfriend.

And she says yes.


End file.
